My voice has returned
Now, when it is too late

I realized that I was not adored as a child.
My mother had long ago beaten
the confidence out of me.

She pounded Bodies
Yelled at Cries
Suffocated Dreams
Pummeled Aspirations
Lynched Creativity
and Silenced Rebellion.

She pounded Time
Until the echoes of silence
resonated only within an adolescent mind.

She pounded Minds.
While her negativity dominated me
without the smallest ounce of compassion
“Shut up stupid”, “You ain’t gon neva be nothin’”,
“I neva wanted you!”

She pounded Life.
And I was forced to bloom out of season,
years later than otherwise.
She always told me that she never loved my dad,
so how could she love me?
“I am not him!” would not be heard.
That phrase choked with my larynx.
I could only show her that
Fire can light ways and burn shit down….

And still She Pounded.


MG Hardie